Inchy Today: Saturday 17th May 2025

17/05/2025 / Inchie / 10 Comments

MORE A REMINDER THAN CARTOON
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STOP…
Stop, but don’t do nothing…
Think: Is humankind worth saving?
Who will do the adjudicating?
Whom can we trust for officiating?
Who will reveal the declaring?
Will we decide by voting?
The leaders we’ve been electing…
Oligarchs, criminals, always lying…
I find them greedy & mind-boggling,
He seems to enjoy pensioners dying?
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When we bravely request a financial bequest,
We get a failed promise, a behest at best,
Do we vote for the least bloodthirstiest,
We settle for the best of the baddest,
We get Starmer, virtually, Labour’s baddest,
A right-winger, not a Socialist!
A taking backhanders specialist,
Who looks after his own spondulicks,
As lying PMs go, he’s the stealthiest,
Maybe he appeals to schizophrenics.
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Compassion? He hasn’t got the remotest,
Wars, hostages? He’s not worth a sausage,
He’s got his nuclear shelter radiologist,
Is earth worth saving in retrospect,
To be honest, I’ve not got the remotest,
Did you hear of the upcoming protest?
Calls for a national strike from communists,
If it’s all peaceful, I won’t object,
I liked Boris, although the slaphappiest,
Starmer? The Unsincerest!
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Can you believe Keir’s not even prosecutable?
He’s even not at all arrestable!
No chance of him being imprisonable,
He’s sacrosanct; after lying to get electable,
Takes backhanders; what a spectacle…
Clothes, cinema, tickets for Arsenal,
He’s made himself impregnable…
Other MPs’ crimes make them blackmailable,
Yet his crimes are irrefutable!
His greed & dishonesty are kenspeckle!
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A minimal in the extreme blog today

LAST NIGHT….
Early yesterday evening, to add to the crazy seizure and Ann Gyna popping into the equation, I got the same as I did last Saturday night.
A deep tiredness, depression and, most annoyingly at the time, kicked off for the first time since last Saturday. I nodded off to sleep in the c1966, £300 charity shop bought second-hand, wincingly grotty, beige coloured, not working, crumb-covered from the nocturnal nibblings, itch-making, uncomfortable, virus-breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of, recliner, even with and both giving me attention and waking me up every so often, I soon got back into bliss.
Carer Joe woke me up.
I was so wee’d-off. I couldn’t help it.
Within minutes of his departure, I nodded off again.
Mysteriously, but it suited me; never twitched again. And eased off tremendously. And I fell into a deep sleep, dreaming of the old days. Two hours later, Carer Ejaz woke me.
I WAILED WITH FRUSTRATION.
Poor Ejaz thought I was getting at him. It’s hard to explain how things can be with my conditions, and I felt guilty about the misunderstanding.
Once Ejaz departed, I felt tired and could not get back to sleep. I tried the usual: I put the TV on. Even that failed. After another fruitless hour of trying my best, I finished yesterday’s blog and started this one.
Around 04:30hrs, I felt I could get some sleep. But needed to utilise the .
As I got up, the pain from the catheter tube in Little Inchy, now leaning to the left, was agony!

I hobbled to the wet room and got myself seated. The nasal juices flowed, and it took me ages to painfully encourage the controlled evacuation to begin. A little bleeding from . I emptied the pouch into a jug for the Carer to evaluate. Then, I tackled moving the tubing and straps on the catheter in the vain hope of easing the pain. I decided to get the done, being as I was up.
Shaved first. It is not usually recommended when I feel so tired. But, foolishly, I carried on. I amassed four nicks and foolishly .
Wish I’d taken Kodak Tim 2 with me now. The sink reminded me of, erm… Psycho, I think. Haha!

Orifices scrubbed up and dried.

All the usual. Eye drops & sprays Little Inchies Lesion,
Another failed go at getting the catheter contraption tube & straps less painful.
Barrier creamed where I could reach.

I was back on the computer, fell asleep, and crumpled to the floor, landing on my left knee—now the tube and straps are even more painful.
Clamboured up using the aged, grotty-looking c1966 made, charity-shop-bought, horribly beige-coloured, £300, Harold’s Haemorrhoid-testing, non-operational, acne-giving, virus-breeding, rickety, easy-to-fall-out-of recliner. And thought I’d stay there and get some sleep at long, long last.

That lasted a minute or so, and the landline telephone chirped up. All I could hear was some music? No idea who it was.

Carer Ejaz came in. Well, after I’d unlocked the door, I forgot to do it with the ablutions and Meds performance. A good-looking lad, he was getting some medications out of the prescription drawer in the kitchen.

I’m so tired out. Continues her milder attackd. She’s getting around a bit today. I’m unsure what happened in detail, but the worn-outness and fatigue returned just like last weekend?
Why only at weekends?
Fell asleep, Carer woke me up.
Put TV on to watch the highlight of the day.
Fantastic Result!
A WARM SMUGNESS FELT!
My hatred of Manchester City is only beaten by my Hatred of Chelsea. Naturally, my loathing of Herr Keir ‘Pensioner-Killer’ Starmer outdoes them both.
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I then proceeded to fall asleep again.
Woken by the Carer. Mizra. Who, I recall, barrier-creamed both ankles. Painkillers were given to counter the almost persistent and graded the urine for me.

I then did some work catching up on this blog.
Before getting the meal, I prepared it earlier and put it in the fridge.
Delicious!
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Inchy Today: Friday 16th May 2025

17/05/2025 / Inchie / 8 Comments

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He’s getting senile and old,
His brain needs a remould,
Mind fogs, a sort of mind mould,
Problems not faced or unresolved,
No wins or successes to behold,
Frustrations make him frampold,
His health-ailments are manifold,
His thinking capacity is caracoled!
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Things were as bad as last September,
Albeit they are mayhap a bit bleaker,
Medications similar, Warfarin, a Beta-blocker,
For his dodgy ticker and Anne Gyna,
Took Durvalumab for bladder cancer,
Cut out Morphine, for that I’m gladder,
New seizures? They make me sadder,
The ankle growths tend to blister.
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As each day progresses, I feel browbeaten,
But thank heavens I’m not bed-ridden!
The seizures now come in a different combination,
Politics? No morals, just commercialisation,
Self-profit and wealth, greed, exploitation,
My legs & ankles have pustulation,
My mind’s full of fear & procrastination,
Political actions are mostly an abomination!
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I loath oligarchs, politicians & the aristocratic,
Arithmophobia, now I fear arithmetic,
Although I’m also dyscalculic & diplegic,
Many folks are worse off; some blind, paraplegic…
I think this might be prophetic or pathetic,
I’ve invented a word, Whoopsiedangleplopic!
When having an electroencephalographic,
To describe my life, my biographic
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Today was an up-and-down mess.
He kicked off early, and I thought he may have been with me in my sleep. He seemed deeply ingrained.
I took an early morning shot with Kodak Tim 2.

Then took over.
Followed without any logical reason, by chirpy , all my worries floated away. Then, varying types and lengths of seizures.
This pattern went on for the rest of the day. Well, up until now, at least (15:00hrs).
My concentration suffered later when I started doing the Ode, and it worsened. Oh, heck!

The JS order arrived. Ejaz put on my socks, and medications were issued. I had changed the catheter contraption back to the left leg. Ejaz put on the fresh pouch and straps for me. He did a good job. The ankles were looking much calmer this morning. Ejaz still put some barrier cream on them for me.
The scars left on top of the left leg by the catheter day bag still needed attention.
Later in the day, I felt the right leg day pouch to assess if it was filling up. I was a smidge concerned at all the water I’d been drinking, and the bag didn’t feel as if anything had got through to it. I decided to investigate and pulled up a long Yaohuole. I did feel like an idiot!
I’d forgotten that I’d moved it back to the left leg!

Carer Joe did the early afternoon call. No meds were needed. But I took some Peptac later.

Now, Anne Gyna is playing me up. The mini-seizures have been uncountable, but I think most were short. The two extremes of and continue to keep swapping control of my emotions. Scary, really!

Going to get something to eat now while I’m on a high. I bet you by the time I’ve cooked and readied it,
will be back.
I hate it when this happens.

Best Nosh All Month!
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👍🏻 Keep Well, & Happy! 👍🏻
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Inchy Today: Monday 12th May 2025

13/05/2025 / Inchie / 8 Comments

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In this Ode, I’ll not mention Starmer,
See that? I’m already a proven liar!
I’m not an activator, actuator or advocator,
Believing once Labour got in power…
It would be a poor man’s financial alleviator,
Not a disabled and pensioner aggravator!
Nor a doom and gloom annunciator,
Our future has never been bleaker,
I don’t trust the HMG, MP, PM or speaker,
Labour: experts in taking a backhander,
I could kick him up his detrusor…
Jinx or hex him; it’d be my pleasure!
My loathing gets ever deeper,
Keir’s decisions get even creepier,
Voters crumbling-hopes get damneder,
His clever use of semi-lies & implicature…
Prevents prosecution… he is a barrister!
Who freed child killers & an axe murderer,
He’s responsible for killing off many a pensioner,
Bankrupting the family farmer…
Feathering his own nest, a meshuggener?
The man is a nihilist, self-profit-seeking,
His expense claims: do they need questioning?
No doubt about it, he’s a naysayer,
He’s likely suffering from peniaphobia,
Scared to death of becoming a pauper,
With brain cells ever working, reticular,
I noticed he’s also a slangwhanger,
He’s earned an early sepulchre,
The slower & more painful, the better!
I may sound like a hard-done-to squaller,
These odes prove I’m a schlepper…
With Starmer being a snollygoster,
He commits crimes, lies & sclaunder…
He gets away with it; that’s spectacular!
That’s because he was a high-class lawyer,
The perfect con man & thimblerigger,
As a PM, naturally, he’s titular,
He got elected because he’s a liar,
Two-faced, deceitful, a conniver,
A guilty promise-breaker
An oathed decision reverser,
A farmer & pensioner depriver,
One other thing in particular,
He also got, is, uranomania!
Divinity? He believes it! Hehehe!
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05:20hrs: I shot out of bed and leapt over the second-hand shop bought nine years ago for £300, c1966, discomfiting, alarmingly beige-coloured, crumb-containing, TV remote hiding, not working recliner. Doing a backward summersault, landing face down, and after doing a few hundred press-ups…
It’s no good; I’m such a terrible fibber!
I inched my legs off of the bed. The catheter contraption straps were painful this morning. I detached the nocturnal catheter bag and rose rather too quickly to get the cream and rub some on the leg straps on the leg. I fell backwards on the corner of the bed and felt bleeding.
So, with the bum and top of the leg bleeding, I hobbled into the kitchen to check the taps and stove initially. But I got sidetracked when I saw the amazingly clear sky. I got Kodak Tim Two and took this snap of the clouds. Then, I took another wider shot. The Sun was already beginning to come through from behind and causing a mist on the horison.

I went to the wet room, where I decided to tend to the mess before applying the barrier cream. I cleaned the few teeth I had left and used the mouthwash. I then realised I had not put in the hearing aids. So, I went to fetch and fit them to see if anyone should call early. With the hearing aids in, I heard a strange noise from the kitchen—a tinkling sound.
Yee Gods! The fourth time in three days! Grrr!
Luckily, it had not been running too long, and the hot water was still reasonably hot enough for me to get the shaving done.
Get ready for this, folks… Dang dang, dang, Dang!
Not a single nick, let alone cut shaving!
A fair bit of medicationings was needed. But I’ve had worse, so no complaints.
Cleaned the glasses. Did a hearing aid battery check. Olive oiled the earholes. Dry eye spray was used. Then, the Blepharitis gel. Phorpain gelled both of Arthur Itis’s knees. Both cartilages, Chloe & Carole, are at the back of the knees. I barrier creamed my armpits, underneath my man breasts and groin, paying careful attention to SOSTH (Spanish Onion Sized Testicle Henry). Below my bulging belly, my still bleeding rear-end sternum. Germolened both ankle ulcers. Then, I got new straps onto the catheter contraption. Barrier creamed them before fitting. Then I tackled .
I’m using the new-to-me Terbinafine hydrochloride cream. I’m also applying the new dropper before the much-feared pain of rubbing it in Med Hydr I can assure you that it was thrown in the waste bin! I’ll never use that again! I shall stick with Betamethasone in the future, even if I have to buy it. Too Painful? YES! This session took a long time to complete. Of course, getting the Protection Pants on was the usual farce. Do they make anything similar to the ones on the right here? It’s suitable that I should put him on the right. Because he’s the most Tory-like Labour Prime Minister ever! Hahaha!

As I noticed the Prison alarm was flashing last night, I didn’t expect to see it again this morning. I got Kodak Tim x2 and took this very poor close as I could get to it to take a snap of the Alarm Flashing (Escaped Prisoner). But it had stopped by the time I’d prattled about to get the shot. Just my luck not to have taken it earlier. Tsk!
Carer Ejaz arrived. Bless him.
I told them of whatever they were last night, which left me in a time-lapse, confused and nervous.
The lad listened. He then sorted out my NHS breakfast.
Then, Ejaz barrier-creamed where I could not reach, mainly my feet, ankles, and back. Next, he put my diabetic socks on my feet for me.
Then he did a quick hoovering around for me. Bless him.

I got tucked into creating today’s Anti-Starmer Ode.
I was about half an hour into it, and the intercom chimed out. It was Matron. She measured me up for the wheelchair setting up. Checked my BP returns, and I waffled on about last night’s time-warping and total confusion. She reminded me to make sure I got an appointment with the Doctor. I explained that only when the Carer is on a Wednesday and Joe is prepared to go with me. Joe will remember and explain things better than I could on my own.
I think other things were discussed. Yes, Matron Jackie will ask the Doctor if I can have an oxygen level monitor. I have no idea what that actually means. I’ll look it up on Mr. Google.

Back to the Ode writing.

A series of mini-seizures came over the next few hours. Kyboshed my creativity and concentration.

Carre Joe arrived. He thinks I may have been falling asleep, which is a possibility. However, I was getting many feelings of dizziness, and my eyes seemed foggy for a few minutes, which I usually put down to my coming out of a seizure. Who knows? Not me!

Carer Ejaz made the next call. Socks taken off. Medications were issued. We had a little natter, and he was in a rush but asked if he could take my photo with my sunglasses on. Well, ever the budding model, I agreed. A handsome-looking brute! Hahaha!

I showed my prepared-earlier nosh in the microwave pot. Ejaz took a photo of that as well! He shot off after that.

I got the Ode finished and into the blog.

I went to the kitchen to ensure I’d not left anything unsafe. I put the potatoes in the dish and put them into the microwave oven.

Boy, what a view I took in these snaps of the quickly disappearing Sun. Bootiful!

Amazing Night Glow!
Then, a closer shot.
I think the eyes of the Sun were
from some trees on the horizon.
GREAT!

It’s late now, and the spuds are in the oven. I’m giving up on the blog, but the meal tempts me!
The Morrisons bread rolls were tasteless and tough.
Everything else was gorgeous!

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Here’s a four-leaf clover
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Inchy: Wednesday 7th May 2025

08/05/2025 / Inchie / 2 Comments

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The fragrant beauty of the moonflower,
The falling leaves from the magnolia,
Signs of Spring, from the family Rosaceae,
Tulips will be growing in Andover,
Recalling my young days, I go a quiver,
Recollecting my tussles with woman-power,
In the grass, cuddles, gropes… Wowser!
I refer, of course, to my beloved Grizelda,
As our relationship did blossom & flower,
Living here lonely now, in Winchester…
Most nights, I hear Grizelda whisper,
I explain how I desperately miss her,
Grizelda; the best ever lover & groper,
Harder than any gobstopper…
Big, muscular, strong, but genteeler,
Galactic, like mythological Galaxia…
She was never the gongoozler…
Rather more the sex organ activator,
My desire, my fire, my inveigler,
A powerful scented windbreaker,
A passionately strong lovemaker,
Autumn leaves fall from the sycamore,
Grizelda was taken, I see her no more,
She was my love, my supporter,
I imagine, dream & remember…
I still love and often serenade her,
In my mind, this may sound like Bilgewater,
She wards off my Neuralgia & Dementia…
I recall her caring benignity…
She loved my childlike poetry,
Her passion, with its forceful articulacy,
Our passion? I was the beneficiary,
I pray to meet her again, cacophonously,
She’s in my every catalepsy, is Grizzly,
I’ll die, not circumspectly or tentatively…
Hoping she’ll be waiting, eager to again maul me!
Enjoying contact, love and contiguity!
Forgive my being slightly delusionary, Hehe!
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It’s another busy day. Wednesdays are busy nowadays. Usually, Carer Joe does the weekly long call. Last week, before he arrived, I told myself to mention that I’d not have any cash to pay the monthly bills from those who do not take payment by cash card. This morning, I remembered that I still had no money to pay my debts.
Joe came to the rescue and took me to the ATM. We also got a bit of food. Boy, did I enjoy getting out?
Joe changed the routine and got the laundry ready to go down with us. Joe also helped me prepare the trolley and other things to take out. However, I failed to remember to take the camera with me. Huh!
When we got to the ground floor, all the machines were in use, so we had to wait until one was free. There were delays at every turn on this trip. Joe had a limited time—three hours, I think. He said we could collect the finished laundry on the way back from the ATM. Then he walked me to his pap-pap and somehow got me in it. That was painful, but it didn’t matter. Once in all, it was comfort. It was filled up when we got to the car park down Winchester Street! More delays! The third car park we tried had one free space! We moved to the road and shop with the ATM. It was broken down.

Then, to the Co-op ATM. That had broken down.
Then, to the Continental Shops ATM. Got the dosh.

I bought some great-priced Compass canned meals there. Then I went back to the car park and up to the flats.

We’d spent so long over the ATMs that Joe had no time to dry the washing. He brought it up, and we hung it all over. A great job Joe did.

Commuter playing up.
I’m struggling. If I get the computer looked at, I’ll put pictures on quickly and catch up tomorrow.

Amazing – the moon has a ghost?

Glengettie & Spring water, and Soda water.
Drinkies to fill the catheter bag.

Joe took me to the ATM; what a farce!
But by gum, I loved getting out, feeling
I was safe if any seizures or tumbles came.

Got back to the flat.
Late, of course. No time for Joe to do the spin-drying with the ATMs not working.

A few nibbles I bought.

We hung the damp laundry all over the place. Haha!On the kitchenette Windows.
Socks on the airer in the hallway.
Hallway airing cupboard doors.
And on the main room door.

Skin-on wedge chips, slightly-seasoned.
As recommended by Carer Joe.
Stopping here. Computer toying with me.
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Must get some help with it.

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In a pickle!
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Inchy: Tuesday 6th May 2025

07/05/2025 / Inchie / 13 Comments

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Sore throat, cough, something bronchial?
Gargle salted water, no NHS for owt medical,
Cycling on the pavement, a constable…
Gives a lecture, then a clip around the ear,
Nicking coal so you could have a fire?
Another clout around my ear on the agenda,
MPs just didn’t appear to be bribable,
Nothing known then as biopsychosocial,
Although the air was barely breathable,
DC power and electric shocks could be lethal,
School? Maths alphabetisation & survival,
No mobile phones, colour TVs or drones,
12” records with scratchy sounds,
Didn’t go through the lights on amber,
Getting to the moon just didn’t matter,
No such things as the BNP or Asda,
Reading a comic was our adventure,
Years late; See you later, alligator!
A talking & walking test, no alcoholometer,
We bought potatoes 12½d by the barrowful,
Cwt today? Costs £150, astronomical!
Cars? Austin A30, Rovers, Ford Anglia,
Standard Vanguards the police’s option,
Poverty, to us, was the normalisation,
Our nights in were with the mouth organ,
Nights out; A drink, film, hot dog, depression,
Or beers, & involuntarily emptying your bladder,
In every pub or shop, you’d see an Arthur,
They showed colour films at the Astoria,
But they were costly at 2/6, half a dollar!
Despite my having dementia and amnesia…
These things I can still relate to, & remember,
Cause life then held some fun and pleasure,
So, I’m ready to go, whensoever,
Would I like to live again? Never!
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Big Iceland order

Fresh foods

More fresh foods
I did get some packets and nibbles.
But the photos seem to have escaped!
I CAN’T WORK IT OUT!
Admittedly, it may be the after-effects of the one and only (up to now) Seizure I came out of a few minutes ago.
I’m not grasping the problems or dealing with them very well. Of the eight photos I took of the order delivered, I can only find four. They were on the internal memory. Nothing else. I tried both SD cards and plugged in the transfer thingy, and a couple were there, so I tried again to upload them.
They didn’t show up at all?
I gave up and sulked a little. I tried again but had no luck; now they have also disappeared from the SD card!
I believe the problem is me.
When I tried a third time, I still had no luck, but I did find three meal photos I thought I had lost!
When?
When? Could they be old or already used?
Aha, last night’s!
So, what’s going on?
My grip on things has been loosened!
To make matters worse, the Doctor can’t see me until June. Carer Joe tried to get through this afternoon, but there was a massive waiting queue! I’m giving up now. I’ll see if I feel more with it in the morning. I know. I’ll go to the WP Reader and reply to the masses of comments I have received. Hehehe! Both of them.
Bit of an unnerving spell, this no-gripness!

Can’t recall taking this one

To this scratchy-looking shot
while making the meal

Slurp!
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TTFNski!
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Inchy: Sunday 4th May 2025

05/05/202507/05/2025 / Inchie / 14 Comments

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Grim: Ayup, what yer up to dumbo?
Inchy: Photoing the sunset, catching it low.
Grim: You like nature, don’t you?
Inchy: I used to like women, but now it’s a no-no!
Grim: How does it help, watching the sun go?
Inchy: It doesn’t, no cuddles or fandango…
No sex or snogging makes me feel so low,
Grim: There’s nowt I can do to help though!
Inchy: A bit of good news? Should I try Ginko?
Grim: Nae, it’s no good, does nowt for you!
Inchy: News? Is there owt I should know?
Grim: I’ll soon be telling yer to get ready to go!
Inchy: That’s alright, I want to talk to St Peter,
Grim: Oh, he’s a proper keen abnegator…
Inchy: Are you saying he’s real… St. Peter?
Grim: I shouldn’t really tell yer…
as you’ll croak out sooner rather than later,
Inchy: Yes, yes, okay, please tell me…
Grim: I really shouldn’t oughter…
St Peter was invented by a Grim Reaper,
Inchy: You? Was it you who invented Peter?
Grim: Well, yes, I had to make it obscure,
So earthlings would never be sure…
Inchy: Yes, yes, yes, tell me more…
Grim: I’d hate victim’s death to be vin ordinaire,
Inchy: I think you really care!
Grim: I do, I do, look at what we share!
Neither of us can have sexual rumpy-pumpy,
Inchy: Very accurate, not our fault, amazingly,
Grim: We’ve no friends apart from each other,
Inchy: Yes, all and sundry can, annoyingly…
Grim: Starmer is our mutual archenemy,
Inchy: True, spot-on accuracy!
Grim: Neither of us show animosity…
Although we both share an animosity,
Inchy: Do we really?
Grim: Yes, towards Heaven & Hell surprisingly,
You accept death most acquiescingly!
Inchy: That’s cause life’s gone miserably,
Grim: They’ll rebirth me, non-consentingly,
With no freaking regrets or apology!
Inchy: The swine, absolutely!
Grim: 2000 years plus, I’ve been reaping!
Without stopping or ever sleeping,
Not one soul collected ever went missing…
Inchy: They’ve treated you abominably…
Grim: Hence, I share your misery, Inchy,
Inchy: Anything I can do to help, possibly?
Grim: We face futures brokenheartedly,
You for not dying, me for reliving…
Inchy: What are you saying?
Grim: When you die, I’ll not collect your soul,
Inchy: Can you not make an appeal?
Grim: To God or the Devil, you cannot appeal,
Even I don’t know if they’re real…
their decision sends me apoplectical,
your world, soon to be mine, is adumbral,
Inchy, what should I be anticipating?
Inchy: Gun crime, motor vehicle crime,
breaking & entry, Islamophobic crime,
homophobic crime, wars, Transgender crimes.
starvations, price rises, bent politicians,
Oligarchs, illuminati, global-warmings,
financial greed, bumfuzzling, pickpocketing,
transgressions, sexual deviations & violations,
depravities, injuries, scandals, altercations,
lawbreaking, delinquencies, corruptions,
injustices, illegalities, death, criminalities,
murders, sins, atrocities, evils, abominations,
monstrosities, cybercrimes, manslaughters,
greed, backhanders, muggings, road raging,
armed assaults, drug wars, blackmailing,
prices rise, corporate fiddling, PM’s lying…
domestic violence, jealousy, child molesting,
antisemitic crime, rude awakenings,
Racist, religious hate crime, thieving…
Grim: Whoa, whoa… I was only joking!
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05:00hrs: I woke up; the moment I moved, I was greeted with severe pains in my left & right feet. Onychovryptosis Ingrowing Toenails, damaged during the cutting, I had to pay £35 for last Friday. Bad as the pain was, I think it was a smidgeon easier than yesterday, but that was absolute agony! I decided then not to have the diabetic socks put on today. But daren’t leave them off for too long. Or the leg growths will start to leak again. I can’t win! Haha! Honestly, I do try!
I removed and emptied the nocturnal catheter pouch. I poured some into an old clear plastic yoghourt pot for the Carer to assess the NHS colour grading chart for me later, and then I took a photo of it (5.5 on the scale).
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Moving to the kitchen after imagining that I’d done my balance exercises, I stubbed my right toe against the ottoman. A few curses, with a fair degree of swearing later, ARRGH!
The same left foot with the big toe was the problem a second time. I took a kitchenette shot en route to the wet room to visit the Porcelain Throne. Trosky’s comeback from yesterday was short-lived.
Had returned. A reluctant whopper was eventually released into the water, which needed three flushes, then a prod with a bamboo cane and a third flush to encourage it to the sewer. I hope it doesn’t cause a blockage. Hehehe!

07:00 hrs, Carer Ejaz arrived. He seemed happier today. I think my saying the socks will have to be left off and telling him why cheered him a little. The medications were issued, and he dabbed some barrier cream on the ingrowing toenails. Well, it might help. He also put some on the rough, thickening right ankle of .
Ejaz took these two shots of feet and poot little and big toes. The big toes seem to have gotten larger overnight? Is that possible? Both hallux toes also seemed to be curling beneath the other toes? Does anyone else out there have or had this before? The smaller toes seem to be more bent? Hey-Ho! Ajaz checked the torso for scabs, bruises, or wounds but found none. Well, a few new red-spot growths on the right top thigh. They come and go at will. After the lad had gone, I went to make a brew of Co-op 99 tea and took this snap on the right when I saw how the sky had reddened.

At 13:30 hrs, Carer Jasmin arrived. She examined the toes and applied some Savlon. She said the toes (the ingrowing pair) had been cut down far too much when they were cut, Jasmin said.

Carer ‘Joe’ did the teatime call; he’s a good bloke.

Baked potatoes in husks, frankfurters, and nothing else. Well, I had an ice cream cornet for afters.

Night shots of the dramatic-looking sky.
And a close-up to follow.
They had a dour beauty, do you think?

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🤎Have a bundle of glee from me!🤎
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Inchy Today: Saturday 3rd May 2025

04/05/2025 / Inchie / 6 Comments

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– – Or summat like that – –
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What controls one’s advertences?
Without them, you’ve mental curtains,
Which blocks your observations,
Lose your morals and convictions,
Dreams, inspirations and motivations,
You may select the wrong adorations,
Bringing on unwanted altercations,
Also, financial complications,
Getting interest rate reductions?
Do you doze off during meditations?
Do you struggle with DIY contraptions?
Why not consult enchiridions?
Do you use too many idioms?
Do you get drawn into fixations,
Understand your own contemplations?
Do you have naughty inclinations?
Do you mix with Oligarchs or patricians?
Comfortable amidst the proletarians?
How rarely do we question the criterions,
Not all criteria of verifications…
These can be classed as desideratums,
It’s vital to carry out investigations,
And done with great intentness’s,
Their objectives, ambitions, & intentions,
Find out their aim with negotiations,
Tell them it with confabulations,
Or conversations or consultations,
Don’t use the word investigations!
After scrutinisations, & observations,
Re your resulting appraisements…
No ballpark figures or approximations,
Declarations, not propositions,
Release only certitudes, positive decisions,
Analyse your ascertainments,
Then, create new recommendations,
Plainly, this is mostly theorisations…
I am not surprised I get mental altercations!
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I fell asleep last night in the aged, grotty-looking c1966 made, charity-shop-bought, horribly beige-coloured, £300, Harold’s Haemorrhoid-testing, non-operational, acne-giving, virus-breeding, rickety, easy-to-fall-out-of recliner. Woke up several times overnight, but far less than when I was in the hospital bed. Around 04:30hrs, I woke again and decided to get up and catch up early on the blog. The mind was willing enough, but the body sort of said to me, ‘Sod off!’ Several times. I could not get back to sleep; a few bouts of eye-drooping were the best I could achieve. I lurched from the recliner, noticing the time was 06:20 hrs. I detached the nocturnal pouch from the day bag, and plans changed when I got up and started the gentle morning balance exercises. The wind erupted from my hindquarters; long, loud, noisily, and aromatically contaminated the room. Off to the wet room, I trudged. By the time I got there and sat down on the Porcelain Throne, the agony from my toes was as painful as it had ever been! Only Anne Gyna and Little Inchies Fungal Lesion are that bad. I thought they hurt a lot when they were cut yesterday. £35 I had to pay for this torture session, too! Haha! To rub it in, I had to clean up endless toenail clippings when the Carer spotted them later on the carpet.
I did not wash or shave, but did I rinse the teggies? I put it down to the pain I’d got and had all day every time I had to stand up and or walk. I unlocked the door as I exited the room so the Carer could get in later. My getting up late annoysed me. My plan to catch up on the blog was in ruins. The new four-wheeled walker attracted my attention, and I tried again to get the loose right handlebar stiffened. I failed, of course.

Carer Ejaz arrived. He made me proud this morning. He assessed the urine rating, issued medications, and then changed my catheter bag. Next, he did a full-body check for new wounds or bruises. New spots on my leg and another bruise on my back were found. He then ointmentated both ankle lesions and legs with barrier cream under the men’s breasts, arms, and in the crutch near the catheter tube. I reckon that the right Lymphorrhoea Leslie’s lower leg, which had been bleeding overnight, had dried up well enough and was reduced in size. But things with Leslie change day by day.

I went out on the balcony to take two shots. That rain we had earlier leaked onto the car park’s end. But we still need more rain here. It’s unnatural that so little rain is falling.
A skyward shot next. What beautiful cloud formations we get. Always differing.

At long last, I got on the computer to update and post the Friday blog on WordPress. It took me hours, but still.

Midday Carer. He took a look at the new walker handgrips for me. I turned the gripper, and it came loose! This could bode unwell!
The skies were even more interesting.
The top shot was to the left of the kitchenette window. The bottom one to the right.
You wouldn’t think they were the same sky.

As the day progressed, the pain from the ingrowing toenails worsened. Walking at times required two sticks; the pain from both nails was so bad. I decided to try to get a bowl with disinfectant in the water, to wash my feet. Getting the bowl filled and into the room near the recliner was a struggle. Dettol was added, and a towel was taken in. But I could not get the diabetic socks off until the Carer arrived.

The Carer came on the last visit and timed it perfectly, and the water was still hot enough.
She removed the socks, and I got my feet in the water.
After two minutes in the bowl, she fretted about being late for her next call. She dried the feet with kitchen towels and kindly applied some barrier cream to Lymphoedema Leslie’s thick, cracked skin on both ankles. Bless her. Cleaning up after was a struggle because, as usual, the toenails sting for a while after doing the feet. Getting off to sleep took me ages, and I was also tired.
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Evening All!
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Inchy Today: Friday 2nd May 2025

03/05/2025 / Inchie / 18 Comments

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STRANGE FACTS YOU MAY NOT WANT TO KNOW,
Things that happened as I began to grow,
Dad decided that to the park we would go…
To watch the cricket, I thought, oh, no,
I get more fun looking at a Picasso,
Can I go on the swings, Dad?
This seemed to make him mad,
He said, keep quiet and be a good lad!
I sneaked off for a walk about a tad,
Carrying football boots, I saw a lad,
I went to watch their game, naughty dingwad.
Trying to open the gate, I was tugging…
Hearing Dad’s voice, I hid absquatulating,
He didn’t see me; I found that amusing…
But not the following crushing…
It was my thumb, and it was bleeding,
Dad came over, saying… What a state!
“Thee thumb ends chopped off, me mate”,
The lad who’d run his car into the gate,
I recall his language was articulate…
Apologising, so there is no need to altercate,
The ambulate arrived, its bell ringing,

They took me to the children’s hospital A&E,
Put me on a waiting hall trolley,
A nurse checked the thumb & bandaged me…
Said that she’ll be back shortly,
I waited and felt a little sleepy,
Took me to the treatment room swiftly,
Said, “We’ll have to sew it back on” curtly,
Which they did, and very neatly,
Back out into the hallway…
You’ll stay here as a cautionery,
“You have been fearless, not cowardly!”
So, I had coped with the calamity,
I turned to look for a lavatory…
And had another Whoosiedangloppery,
I fell off of the trolley,
It doesn’t feel like it, but apparently…
But that was back in August 1950,
When they got me up, I’d broken my knee!
The start of my run of being unlucky,
What have I done successfully?
I’ve about run out of currency,
Born with the world’s tinniest ever Willie,
Cancer, shot, Peripheral Neuropathy,
Glaucoma, Cataract, at 23 I became a baldie,
Being nearly drowned later made me a deafie,
Got made redundant when I was 63,
Then, they fitted a mechanical aorta in me,
Cartilages giving way, then Reflux Roger,
Then the devil infected me with Anne Gyna,
Haemorrhoids, colour-blind, then another catastrophe,
Ingrowing toenails, having to pay for chiropody,
Hearing aids, spectacles, & lost my mobility,
Taxed on my pension… Oh, did I mention…?
Starmer stole my winter fuel allowance from me!
I cannot claim to have been over-lucky,
I may need help psychosomatically,
Psychologically, I live abnormally,
I’m getting help, the falls team agreeably…
Will visit to aid my recovery,
They will help me significantly,
The Carers do, definitely…
But it’s all too costly!
I am a proper moaner,
Most of my ire is self-anger,
Leaving hot taps to run colder,
Doors open, fridge flowing over,
I’ve turned into a grammaticaster,
Many traits & skills that I cannot master!
No point in becoming a reprehender,
Starmer’s done well, and he’s a cheat & liar!
His father was a toolmaker,
That’s true; he made a useless one named Keir!
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Less time left than ever before after making this Ode!
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04:15hrs: I woke, removed the catheter pouch, and went to the wet room to get the cleaning up done &
sorted out. I was feeling, well, not perkier, but better than I have done for a few mornings.
I checked the computer email in case any of the medics had sent me an update.
I realised the snaps below, taken last night by Carer Ejaz, are rare. ‘Rain’ was missed in yesterday’s blog. I plead Guilty!

There were no cuts, and the bruised eye looked bad. Not really, but it made me sound brave! Hehe!
The ulcers and were far less vivid this morning.
Some new growths had appeared near DVD veins.
At teatime, I showed Carer Joe. There were new ones, and those in the photo had been leaking from a tiny spot on top of each one that had dried hard.
Another of the Mysteries of Woodthorpe Court, with the hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, ghosts, the grotesque succubae, extraterrestrials, ectoplasms, spirits, or the Fata Morgana that have been sent to taunt, irritate and terminate my already limited saneness of mind, which is losing its marbles?

Mini-seizures and doing the gloriously silly Ode above ensured I spent hours and hours slogging away, constantly getting slower. Several hours were lost.

A social team member (I can’t recall the name)rang me, reminding me to call the doctors to get an appointment with her – one might as well have called Putin and asked him to kindly stop killing people; the result is the same.
Apparently, the Doctor asked Matron Jackie to tell me to make one. Then, the Doctor requested that Social remind me. I can only get there with a Carer on a Wednesday. When Carer ‘Joe’ rang for me, he was told that the Doctor does her home calls on a Wednesday. After talking with the organiser, the best he could offer was for fifteen-thirty, on the fourth of June. But this is only protem. Carer ‘Joe’ said he’ll see if he can get cover or make changes for that day. He’ll have to ring them back to make it for another day if he can’t get things arranged for that day.

The costly nail cutter from the hair salon came up to do them at ‘ten minutes’ notice. This threw out my plots for the Ode and delayed me even further. Tsk!
I’d just had a mini seizure and was not totally compos-mentis. Nice gal. Hurt a bit on the ingrowing nail toes. In fact… ARRGH! Hehe!

I’ve got a potato in the oven to try making cheesy spuds. But, on a low light. It’s the last call of the day, Ejaz, I think it will be. He’s due over the next hour; I’ll not start eating until he’s gone. Then, the feasting will start. Hahaha! I’ll turn the heat down on the oven so they don’t burn.

Back with an update in T’morning’!

Good Morning!
Carer Ejaz arrived.
I took these snaps of the sun going down with my (donated) Kodak 2a.
Then, about a minute later.
The sun was moving down quickly.